NERDS UNEXPECTED AFFECTION

Chapter 5

In class

The siren had forced them inside, but nobody was ready to learn.

Desmond slid into his seat at the back, third row from the window. Daniel dropped beside him without a word. Joel, Kelvin, and Enoch filed in behind, all of them pretending the last twenty minutes at the court hadn’t happened.

Bianca was already seated two rows ahead, her back ruler-straight. Geraldine and Annabel flanked her like bodyguards. She didn’t turn around. She didn’t have to. The whole room felt her.

Precious wasn’t in class. She was in Sir Erasmus's office.

Isabel sat near the front with Nadia, her notebook open, pen already moving. She hadn’t looked at Desmond once since he walked in.

The door opened. Mrs. Sarkson entered with a stack of marked scripts under her arm and the kind of silence that made boys sit up followed her.

Students went silent. The teacher entered and started teaching.

For ten solid minutes, it was just the sound of marker on board and Mrs. Sarkson's voice explaining quadratic equations like they were the most important thing in the world. Like there hadn’t been a kiss at the basketball court. Like Bianca hadn’t been humiliated. Like Desmond hadn’t told his best friend he had no choice but to marry a girl he didn’t love.

Then Travis, two desks from Isabel, leaned over. He wasn’t whispering to be subtle. He was whispering to be heard.

“Yeah!” he said, too loud. “I also saw it. I like it!”

June, next to him, didn’t even pretend to care that mrs. Sarkson was still talking. “I told you so!” she hissed back.

Both of them burst out laughing.

Heads turned. Mrs. Sarkson stopped writing. The marker hung in her hand.

“What is so funny that the whole class must hear it?” she asked. Her voice was calm. That was worse than shouting.

Travis straightened up fast. “Nothing, madam.”

“Nothing,” Mrs. Sarkson repeated. She set the marker down. “Then since you have energy for nothing, you can explain to us how to solve number three on the board. Both of you.”

The class went “Ooooh” under their breath. Travis and June stood up, faces burning.

Isabel didn’t laugh. But the corner of her mouth twitched. Just once.

Desmond saw it from the back.

Daniel saw Desmond see it. He nudged him with his elbow. “Focus.”

“I am,” Desmond said. He wasn’t looking at the board.

Bianca finally turned around. Not at Travis . Not at June. At Desmond. Her eyes skipped over Daniel like he wasn’t there and landed hard on Desmond’s face.

She was checking. Checking if he was watching Isabel.

Desmond held her gaze, then shrugged, slow and deliberate. He turned back to the board like the quadratic equation had just become fascinating.

Bianca’s jaw locked. She faced front again.

Travis was now sweating through his uniform trying to factorize. June was no help. She kept sneaking glances at the court-facing windows, like she wished she was still out there.

Mrs. Sarkson let them suffer for a full minute before she sighed. “Sit down. Both of you. And if I hear another word that isn’t mathematics, you’ll be solving equations at the assembly grounds during free period.”

They sat. The class settled.

Nadia slid Isabel a folded note under the desk. Isabel opened it, read two words, and shoved it into her bag without reacting. But Nadia was grinning.

Desmond tapped his pen against his desk. Once. Twice.

“Stop,” Daniel muttered.

“Stop what?”

“You know what.”

Desmond didn’t answer. Because Mrs. Sarkson had started teaching again, and Isabel had just tucked a piece of her braid behind her ear, and Bianca’s shoulders were still too stiff, and Precious wasn’t here but her kiss was.

The class was silent. But the war wasn’t over.

It had just moved indoors.

Mrs. Sarkson’s marker scratched against the board for exactly thirty more seconds before she turned.

Everyone who’d been to her class before knew what that meant.

“Teacher turns.”

“June!” Mrs. Sarkson’s voice cracked like a cane. “Get up!”

June scrambled to her feet, knocking her math set off the desk. It clattered loud in the dead silence.

“Pack your things and go sit at Desmond’s place,” Mrs. Sarkson said. “And Desmond, come sit at June’s place.”

The whole class shifted. Desmond didn’t move.

Daniel glanced at him. “Bro.”

Desmond’s jaw worked. He liked the back. Back meant no eyes on him. Back meant Bianca in front where he didn’t have to see her. Back meant control.

But then he looked up and did the math. June was sitting in the middle of Isabel and Travis. Front row. Right side.

If he moved, he’d be sitting with Isabel.

If June moved to his spot, she’d be sitting with Daniel. Right behind Bianca.

Desmond stood up.

Daniel’s eyebrows shot up. “Since when do you obey....”

“Since now,” Desmond cut in. He grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder.

Bianca’s head snapped around so fast her braids whipped her cheek. She’d done the same math.

Desmond didn’t want to go, but when he saw that he was going to sit with Isabel, he agreed. He wanted to annoy Isabel, for disrespecting him. That was the only reason. That was what he told himself.

June was already scrambling past Isabel, muttering “Sorry” under her breath, dragging her bag to the back. She dropped into Desmond’s empty seat next to Daniel like it was on fire.

Desmond walked down the aisle slow. Not rushed. Not nervous. Like he was doing Mrs. Sarkson a favor.

Bianca was burning with anger on her seat. Her knuckles were white around her pen again. Geraldine put a hand on her arm. Bianca shook it off.

Desmond dropped into June’s seat. His knee knocked Isabel’s desk. She didn’t move it.

He looked at her. Isabel looked at him.

Her eyes did a full circuit: up to the ceiling, down to his face, then to the window like it had personally offended her. She rolled her eyes.

He smiled.

"She's so dramatic ", Desmond thought. In his mind, not out loud. He wasn’t stupid.

Mrs. Sarkson turned back to the board like she hadn’t just redrawn the entire battlefield. “As I was saying before we were interrupted. Quadratic equations. Desmond, solve number four.”

The class went “Ooooh” again, quieter this time.

Desmond stood up, walked to the board, and took the marker. He didn’t look at Bianca. He didn’t look at Isabel. He solved it. Fast. Correct. His writing was messy, but the answer was right.

He gave the marker back to the teacher and sat down.

Bianca hadn’t turned around again. Her shoulders were a straight line.

Nadia passed Isabel another note. Isabel didn’t open it. She kept her eyes on her book, but her pen had stopped moving.

The teacher continued teaching.

Under the desk, Desmond stretched his legs out. His shoe brushed Isabel’s. She didn’t pull back. She didn’t kick him either.

instead she gave him a sharp glance and he just smiled.

Outside, the bell for next period was still twenty minutes away.

Inside, nobody was learning about math anymore.

The bell finally ripped through the tension. Mrs. Sarkson hadn’t even finished saying “Class dismissed” before chairs scraped back and bags were zipped.

Desmond didn’t look at Isabel when he stood. He didn’t have to. He could feel Bianca’s eyes drilling into his back from two rows behind, as he passed.

He ignored her.

Isabel was already out the door, Nadia at her elbow. Travis had vanished like a good side character who knew when to exit the scene.

By the time Desmond made it to the entrance, the heat had chased most students under the big mango tree or the cafeteria .

Isabel was standing right by school's gate with Chantel and Nadia, her bag slung over one shoulder, arms crossed.

And she was talking.

Chantel and Nadia were not. They were laughing.

Chantel actually had to clutch her stomach. Nadia was wiping her eyes.

Isabel looked deeply unimpressed. “What’s funny about this?”

Nadia sucked in air, trying to stop. Failed. “Nothing ” she gasped. “Nothing, I swear. But what you’re telling us is really funny!”

“It’s not funny,” Isabel said flatly. “It’s stupid. There’s a difference.”

“What’s stupid?” Chantel wheezed. “Him sitting next to you? Or him solving math like he’s trying to impress you?”

“I don’t get impressed by long division,” Isabel said. “I get impressed by manners. Which he still doesn’t have.”

Desmond was close enough to hear that. He’d stopped pretending to check his phone by the notice board.

Daniel appeared at his side like a disappointed shadow. “Bro. You’re hovering.”

“I’m standing,” Desmond said.

“You’re hovering near the nerd you claim you don’t like.”

“I don’t like her. I’m observing. Like a science experiment.”

“Science experiments don’t roll their eyes at you,” Daniel said. “And they definitely don’t make you smile like an idiot.”

Desmond didn’t answer because Bianca had just walked past them. She didn’t look at him. She looked at Isabel. Then at Chantel and Nadia laughing. Then she kept walking, Geraldine and Annabel trailing her, their heads together and whispering fast.

Nadia spotted Desmond first. Her laughing stopped like someone hit pause. She elbowed Chantel. Chantel looked, then bit her lip to kill her smile.

Isabel turned last. Saw him. Her face did nothing. That was somehow worse than the eye-roll.

She turned back to her friends. “Anyway. As I was saying. Some people think changing seats changes facts. It doesn’t.”

“Facts like what?” Chantel said, voice innocent, eyes not innocent at all.

“Like the fact that I have a scholarship to keep and he has a girls follow,” Isabel said, loud enough to carry. “So whatever science experiment he’s doing? He can write his report somewhere else.”

She hitched her bag higher and started walking toward the canteen. Nadia and Chantel scrambled after her, both failing to hide their grins.

Desmond didn’t follow.

Daniel exhaled. “Good. Let’s go eat before Bianca poisons your food.”

Desmond watched Isabel’s braid swing as she walked away. She didn’t look back.

For the first time all day, Bianca was smiling as she watched him watch Isabel. It wasn’t a nice smile.

The war had left the classroom.

Now it owned the whole school.

Still on their way to the cafeteria.

Isabel didn’t get three steps before Chantelcaught her sleeve. “Wait. Wait. Rewind.”

“I’m not rewinding anything,” Isabel said. “I have chips to buy and peace to maintain.”

“You’re not getting peace today,” Nadia said, still grinning. “Not after that eye-roll. I felt it from two desks away.”

Isabel stopped walking. She turned to both of them, arms still crossed. “You guys are something. Trying to make me remember how that annoying guy pissed me off!”

Chantel wasn’t even sorry. “So when he said you couldn't resist his cute face , what did you say?”

Isabel’s chin went up. “I told him I would rather be single than like him.”

Chantel gasped, delighted. “Wow! I like that!”

Nadia snapped her fingers. “You should have given him a punch on that handsome face of his.”

All three of them burst out laughing.

Isabel wiped her eye, still trying to look annoyed and failing. “Let’s take that aside. He is Bianca’s boyfriend. Two bad people in a relationship. It will become worse.”

“Yeah!” Nadia agreed, nodding hard.

“But everyone knows Desmond does not date a girl for more than two weeks,” Chantel added, dropping her voice like it was a secret. It wasn’t. The whole school knew.

Isabel frowned. “What?!”

Nadia rolled her eyes at Chantel. “Seriously. You’ve been counting?”

Chantel just went, “Hmmm,” and popped a bubble with gum she wasn’t supposed to have on campus.

Nadia ignored her. “But he dated Bianca for a year. Which means she is his true love.”

Chantel tilted her head. “What if he had girlfriends in his boarding school?”

Isabel was quiet for a second. Then she said it, flat and final: “Poor Bianca.”

It wasn’t pity. It was a verdict.

None of them saw Desmond anymore. He and Daniel had moved toward the cafeteria . But Bianca hadn’t. She was standing by the notice board with Geraldine and Annabel, close enough to hear every word.

Her face was blank. That was new. Bianca was never blank. She was angry, or sweet, or vicious. Never blank.

Geraldine whispered something. Bianca didn’t answer. She just stared at Isabel’s back, then turned and walked away. Not to the cafeteria . Toward the Admin block.

Annabel hurried after her. “Bianca? Where are you going?”

Bianca didn’t reply.

Isabel, oblivious, finally started toward the cafeteria again. “If you two are done interrogating me, I need actual food. Scholarships don’t pay for themselves and fainting from hunger isn’t in my budget.”

“Your budget is so boring,” Chantel sighed, but she followed.

“Your face is boring,” Isabel shot back.

“Okay, now you sound like him,” Nadia said.

Isabel stopped dead. “I do not.”

“You kind of do,” Chantel said.

“I hate you both.”

“No, you don’t,” Nadia said, slinging an arm around her. “You love us. We’re the only ones who tell you when you’re acting like the guy you hate.”

Isabel groaned. “I need new friends.”

“You can’t afford new friends,” Chantel said. “you need us to survive"

That got another laugh out of all three of them.

Across the compound, Desmond was leaning against the cafeteria wall, watching the entrance even though they were already gone. Daniel shoved a chip into his hand.

“Eat. Before you do something stupid. Again.”

Desmond took a bite. Didn’t taste it.

School’s entrance

The three of them had migrated from the cafeteria to the school's entrance after buying some snacks .

Nadia was still on the topic of Desmond’s dating history like it was a group project. “Desmond was in a boarding school for that one year, you know.”

Isabel and Chantel said it at the same time: “Long distance relationship.”

All three of them cracked up. A teacher passing by gave them a look. They didn’t care.

Chantel checked her phone and sighed dramatically. “Well, my car is in. I have to go. Bye!”

She didn’t wait for an answer. She just tossed her braids, waved once, and strutted toward the parking lot where a black Range Rover was idling.

Chantel entered the car and drove off, one hand out the window.

Isabel and Nadia watched her go. “Must be nice,” Nadia said.

“Must be distracting,” Isabel said. “Come on. We’re walking before the sun kills us.”

Isabel and Nadia went home, cutting through the small gate .

A the parking lot

The compound was almost empty. Club meetings, detention, and extra classes had swallowed the rest of the students.

Desmond and Bianca were walking towards Bianca’s car, side by side but not touching. Not yet.

Her driver was standing outside, but one look from Bianca had him moving to “check the tires” at the other end of the lot. Geraldine and Annabel had been dismissed ten minutes ago.

Now Bianca’s back was on the car. Silver Mercedes. Tinted windows. Desmond was standing in front of her, close enough that her perfume was all he could smell. His right hand was around her waist, fingers splayed against the silk of her uniform. His left hand was in his pocket.

To anyone watching, they were the perfect picture. The king and his chosen queen.

“So you have to go,” Desmond said. His voice was low. Private. “I wish you can stay with me.”

It sounded good. It sounded like something a boyfriend should say.

Bianca smiled. Slow. She’d been waiting all day to hear him sound like he wanted her. “Well I can,” she said. “If you cancel where you’re going tonight and come with me.”

She brought her lips to his ear. Her breath was warm. “It will be just you and me.”

Then she pecked him. Quick. On the jaw. A promise, not a kiss.

Desmond hesitated for a second. His right hand tightened on her waist. His left hand stayed in his pocket.

Then he smiled.

“No,” he said. “Maybe next time.”

He pecked her back. On the forehead. The kind of kiss you give a little sister.

“You should go now.”

Bianca’s smile didn’t drop. But it froze. Her eyes searched his face for the joke. She didn’t find one.

“Desmond,” she said, voice soft. Dangerous soft. “Who are you going to see tonight?”

“No one,” he said. Too fast.

“You hesitated.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did. Two seconds.” Bianca pushed off the car, stepping into his space, forcing his hand to drop from her waist. “were you thinking of me within that two seconds ? Or you were thinking of her? Or should i say them”

“Her? who?”

“Don’t play with me.”

“I’m not playing,” Desmond said. “I’m telling you to go home. Your driver’s waiting.”

Bianca stared at him. Then she laughed, short and sharp. “Right.” She opened her car door herself. Didn’t wait for him or the driver. “Next time, Desmond. You said next time.”

She got in. The door slammed.

Desmond stood there until the Mercedes pulled out of the lot. He exhaled.

Daniel was leaning against a pillar ten feet away. He’d been there the whole time.

“You’re an i***t,” Daniel said.

“You’re a stalker,” Desmond said.

“You turned down Bianca to go do what? Homework?”

Desmond didn’t answer. He started walking. Towards his car.

But for one second when Bianca said “just you and me,” he hadn’t pictured her.

He’d pictured an eye-roll.

And that was the problem.

He entered his car and drove off. Daniel didn’t try to stop him this time.

AT Desmond House

The house was cold. It was always cold, even when the AC was off. Marble floors, high ceilings, art his mother picked and his father approved. Nothing felt lived in.

Desmond just entered the house. His Dad was sitting on the sofa. Single seat. Back straight, paper in his lap, but he wasn’t reading. He was waiting.

Desmond was ascending the stair case when it came.

“Desmond!!!”

Thomas Adjei’s voice didn’t need to shout. It just filled rooms.

Desmond turned. One hand on the railing, one foot on the next step.

“Hey there, oldman,” he said.

Thomas set the paper down. Slow. Controlled. “Desmond. What’s the meaning of that?”

Desmond’s mouth twitched. “So! Mr. Principal already told you.”

“Desmond!” Thomas stood up. The paper fell to the floor. “Why do you always want to destroy my reputation everywhere you go?”

The basketball court. Precious. Bianca. The whispers. The calls to his office. It had all landed here, in this living room.

Desmond shrugged. “Well, oldman. I was just doing my thing. I didn’t mean to destroy your reputation.”

He turned and started walking. Up the stairs. Away.

“Hey! Youngman, come back here am still talking to you ”

Desmond didn’t stop. He took the stairs two at a time.

His bedroom door closed with a click, not a slam. Slamming would mean Thomas won.

Downstairs, Thomas was still talking. Something about the family name. About Bianca’s father. About contracts.

Desmond locked his door. Dropped his bag.

His phone buzzed.

Precious:You left without saying bye .

Bianca:Next time.

He didn’t reply to any of them.

He walked to his window. From here, he could see the main road. Cars passing. People going home.

He remembered Isabel calling him mannerless again.

For no reason , it made him smile, which he didn't understand why.

Few minutes later

The door opened again.

Desmond came down stairs wearing new clothes. Black tee, dark jeans, fresh sneakers. Car keys in his hand. Going outside.

He made it to the third step from the bottom before the living room went nuclear.

“Desmond!!!”

Desmond stopped.

“Come over here!!!” Thomas roared.

For a second, he considered keeping walking. Then he thought about the house staff watching from the kitchen doorway. About the gardener pretending to water plants right outside the window.

Desmond came to him.

He stopped three feet away. Not close enough to touch. Not far enough to run.

Thomas was standing now, his face red, a vein in his neck that Desmond remembered from childhood. “How dare you walk away while I am talking to you!!!”

Desmond’s hands were in his pockets. His face was blank.

“Well, oldman,” Desmond said, voice level. “I wasn’t ready to listen to the s**t you were going to say.”

The silence after that was worse than yelling.

Thomas looked like someone had slapped him. “Why are you so ungrateful!!?”

That made Desmond laugh. Short. Ugly. “You are the ungrateful one! Mom is dead because of you!! Why can’t you just let me enjoy my life?”

Thomas flinched. Actually flinched. Like the words were physical.

“Because I am your father!!!” Thomas shot back, his voice cracking on the last word.

Desmond’s blank mask cracked too. Underneath was rage, two years old and still bleeding. “You lost that title when you cheated on Mom with that b***h!!!”

“Don’t you dare call my wife that, else...”

“You’ll kill me for that b***h!” Desmond yelled back. He took a step forward, chest to chest with his father. They were the same height now. “Go ahead! Do it! Then you can explain to the world how both of us ended up dead!”

The house went silent. No AC hum. No staff breathing. Nothing.

Thomas’s fists were clenched at his sides. Desmond’s were too, inside his pockets, nails cutting his palms.

For a second, it could have gone either way.

Then Thomas stepped back. One step. It cost him.

“You will regret this,” Thomas said. Quiet now. That was worse than the shouting. “You think you’re grown because you can talk back? You think you can throw away the Adjei name? Bianca’s family is waiting. And you’re out here acting like some....”

“Like what?” Desmond cut in. “Like Mom’s son? Because I am. And she hated this. She hated you turning me into a contract.”

Thomas didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Desmond waited one more second. Then he turned. Walked to the door. Didn’t run.

“Desmond.” Thomas said it to his back.

He stopped, hand on the door. Didn’t turn around.

“If you walk out that door tonight,” Thomas said, “don’t come back until you’re ready to act like an Adjei.”

Desmond opened the door. “Then I guess I’ll see you at my funeral, oldman. Since Adjeis don’t come back from the dead.”

He walked out. The door closed behind him.

No click this time.

A slam.

Outside, his car was still warm from the drive from school. He got in. Didn’t start it right away.

His hands were shaking.

His phone lit up again.

Precious:Where are you??

Bianca:My dad called your dad. What did you do?

He ignored all of them.

He put the car in drive.

He had nowhere to go.

But he wasn’t staying here.